Johnlock Oneshot
by SherlocksProdigy
Summary: Sherlock has received no new cases and is desperate for another one until John decides to take him to a hotel, but John has a purpose that he can't wait to express towards Sherlock.


Sherlock sat in his armchair, slouchingly, with his revolver spinning it in between his fingers as he stared upon in chemical lab he had constructed up in his kitchen; While John sat in the writing desk typing up the previous case entitled A Study In Scarlet.  
"No case?" John asked as he typed up the final words in his blog. Sherlock ignored and sighed heavily.  
"Okay..." John whispered, and turned around in his seat after pressing the enter button on his keyboard which published his adventure.  
"Boring, Boring cases!" Sherlock cried out as he stood up abruptly and turned towards the wall with the Yellow Face painted upon the decorated wallpaper.  
"I'm sure there's got to be one, Sherlock." John hoped and got up from his chair, walked over to couch, sat down, and looked over the newspapers that lay on the small rectangular table.  
"Oh, missing jewels. No? Okay, um...A girl has gone missing just late last night." John suggested as he looked up at Sherlock who had now thrown the revolver at the writing desk, and stared out the window dramatically.  
"Not that one I guess." John muttered under his breath and Sherlock shot a look at him after John continued to overlook the papers for anything new. Seeing nothing that could possibly interest Sherlock, or even to himself, he got up, walked over to the racket, and slipped on his jacket. Sherlock eyed him curiously.  
"Where're you going?" Sherlock asked. John sighed and threw Sherlock's black overcoat towards him, and caught it.  
"Out."  
"But where?" He repeated.  
"Just put on your coat!" John instructed and Sherlock smirked slightly. He always admired when John would get all demanding with him.

"What is this?" Sherlock asked as they ascended up the elevator.  
"I thought you knew everywhere in England." John smirked. Sherlock scoffed, "Just London." Sherlock mumbled making John raise his brow.  
They arrived at a suite inside a hotel which an elegant bed, a Victorian-like chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a stretched out vertical mirror that extended from one end of a wall to the other, and a beautiful balcony that has the ocean view.

"Why are we here?" Sherlock asked as John closed the door behind them.  
"You are full of questions today, aren't you?"  
"Well, you won't answer any of them."  
"I shouldn't have to."  
"Then expect some more." Sherlock replied and John grinned walking towards the bed, and, taking his shoes off, sat at the foot of the king sized bed. Sherlock strolled slowly towards the glass barrier door that opened to the balcony with his hands clasped behind his back and sighed softly.  
"Nice, innit?" John asked as he looked at Sherlock with the deepest interest.  
"Yes; but why are we here, John?" He asked once again, now turning to face John, who was looking back at him as well.

"I felt you needed some air."  
"And another room somewhere else is going to give me air?"  
"Fresh air is." John corrected and hid a smile.  
"Right..." Sherlock replied and sat at the white coloured couch taking off his overcoat. Sherlock had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the new setting especially now that he was completely alone with someone he has a secret sentiment towards. John had the same impure thoughts running through his mind; He shook his head to hopefully clear them out, but nothing would vanish so he rose up from the bed and walked over to the bedside table and picked up the hotel phone.  
"Are you hungry?" John asked and Sherlock looked over, having been staring off into the ocean.  
"No; I'm not." He answered. John nodded, but went ahead and ordered some food anyways; "I said I wasn't hungry."

"Well, you might be later." John replied hearing a woman answer the phone.  
"Yes; Hi, can I have whatever's on the menu right now?"John asked;"Oh, great thank you." John hung up the phone and walked over to the couch where Sherlock was.  
"Looks like we're having some burgers n' fries tonight." John said.  
"Oh." Sherlock mumbled making John furrow his eyebrow. "You alright?" He asked.  
"Yes; I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"  
"I was just asking, Sherlock." He answered calmly not wanting to argue with him.

It'd already been 2 hours since they sat in the couch with only a few words exchanged between them and the occasional glance at each other while the other wasn't looking with thoughts that occurred to them immediately. John, at one point, bit his bottom lip; As well as did Sherlock, but he made sure to keep it under wraps(Though he failed to do so).  
 _RING!_  
John rose up from the couch and walked over to the door, opened it, and invited the chef in, who rolled in a cart with two covered dishes on it. John left the door opened for her and she smiled walking out, "Enjoy." She said and John thanked her before closing the door behind her. Sherlock had now got up to prepare their foods by uncovering the dish, immediately being exposed to the greasy aroma, and he grabbed the small ketchup packet, ripped it open, and poured some over John's fries then stopped not realizing he hadn't asked before doing so.  
"Do you like ketchup on your fries?" He asked though he found it pointless now that he'd already had done so.  
"Not really, but it's fine. I'll eat it anyway-"  
"No; here take mine."  
"Sherlock it's o-" John trailed off when he noticed that Sherlock wasn't going to stop him from switching the plates:"thanks."

"No problem." Sherlock faintly smiled and John did too.  
"Uhm..." Sherlock cleared his throat and looked down at his hands when he noticed he'd spilled the ketchup on his trousers. John quickly took notice and hurriedly gave him multiple napkins from the bathroom.  
"Here." John handed them to Sherlock, who was starting to feel his face blush from the embarrassment, and shyly took the napkins; he then cleaned his trousers leaving a dark spot on them. John hummed as he went over to the room's closet seeing a pare of black trousers and walked back towards Sherlock with the black trousers in his hands, and, offered them to Sherlock who now sat on the couch once again.

"You brought extra trousers?" He asked.  
"No; these were in the closet." John informed. Sherlock shook his head as to say that he doesn't want them and John set them aside. He then sat beside Sherlock. They remained quiet for a long time as if the awkwardness between them was too strong that they couldn't even say a word. John kept muttering to himself confusing Sherlock, but he didn't dare to ask what it is that was going on.  
"Oh, for God's sake. Sherlock." John turned to him and Sherlock glanced at him most attentively yet still confused as to John's peculiar attitude. Sherlock nodded; John sighed loudly as if the words that were going to come out of his lips were words he'd been obscuring this entire time.  
"Sherl-No, nevermind." John turned away for a moment then back towards Sherlock.  
"John?" Sherlock whispered.

John visibly bit his bottom lip and Sherlock noticed John's pupils had dilated 50% than it's normal size which both excited and surprised Sherlock. Sherlock gasped when John had gotten on top of him, wrapped his hand around his nape, and, with his other hand, rested on Sherlock's pale cheeks, and all happened in such a fast pace that Sherlock didn't even have time to inhale another breath when John connected his lips to his own. Sherlock's heart fastened his pace and he excitedly kissed back and this made John smile as they kissed deeply. After a long minute of the two men kissing the one they loved John pulled back;"You have no idea how long I've wanted you to do that." Sherlock whispered desperate for another intimate moment. John scoffed happily:"Me too, Sherlock."  
"Kiss me already." Sherlock begged; John nodded laying Sherlock down on the couch and reconnecting their lips.


End file.
